Ten minutes later, Anthony Carter's men arrived at the courtyard gate—carrying fifty million dollars in cash.
"You can go get your money now," William said to the drunk, his tone still surprisingly polite.
The drunk staggered out, still half-doubting. But when he saw the rows of bodyguards standing beside a dozen heavy cases—each one packed with stacks of U.S. bills—he nearly lost his grip on reality.
"Holy shit… You guys actually bought it? All this is mine?"
"All yours," Anthony Carter said, barely holding it together. He'd already been on edge coming to see William—now he had to deal with this drunk on top of it.
After getting the man to sign a property transfer agreement, Anthony even threw in a luxury car to sweeten the deal. Only then did he have someone escort the guy away.
Once everything was settled, Anthony walked back into the courtyard, his steps unsteady. He stopped in front of William, then dropped to his knees.
"Master… where have you been all these years?" he asked, voice trembling. "Yesterday, when I heard that Taylor brat disrespected you, I rushed to the mountain right away. But by the time I got there, you were already gone. I thought… I thought maybe you didn't want to see us anymore."
William smiled faintly as he looked at him. He knew Anthony's people had been on the mountain yesterday—but they hadn't lifted a finger.
Under William's gaze, Anthony felt a chill crawl up his spine. It was like every thought in his head had already been laid bare.
"I didn't call you here today for anything complicated," William said. "We were once master and servant. But times have changed. You've all built your own empires. You bought this house for me—so we're even now. Everything you have is yours. I won't take it back. You don't need to worry."
Anthony's face changed instantly. The other four men dropped to their knees beside him.
"Master, everything we have today was given by you. If you say the word, we'll hand it all over. I'll always be your servant," said one of the elders in a tailored suit, his voice thick with emotion.
That man was Charles Turner, a world-renowned medical genius. People called him a living legend in the field of medicine. But he knew the truth—everything he had learned, he'd only scratched the surface of what William had once taught him.
Now, Charles owned dozens of pharmaceutical companies and medical equipment manufacturers. His net worth had long since passed the billion-dollar mark.
With Charles saying that, the others had no choice but to echo him. None of them could see through William—not even close. In fact, the more they learned, the more unfathomable he became. If they truly understood him, they might've tried to eliminate him already.
But they hadn't. Because deep down, they knew better.
William shook his head. "All things end eventually. Just give me what I asked for. After that, don't come looking for me again. I don't want to see any of you."
Anthony swallowed hard, then asked carefully, "What exactly do you want?"
He was rich enough to rival nations. If William wanted to take everything back, he'd have no choice but to fight him to the death. But hearing William's words, he finally let out a breath of relief.
"A driver's license," William said. "And I want to go to school. Learn about this new era."
He watched their faces closely, catching every flicker of emotion. He knew exactly what they were thinking.
"That's all. Don't worry about anything else. I don't want to be disturbed. If you see me out in public, pretend you don't know me. Otherwise…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
No matter how powerful they were in the world, in front of William, they were still just kneeling servants.
"Yes, Master!" they all answered in unison.
If this was William's own decision, then it wasn't betrayal to follow it. All he wanted was a house, a license, and to go to school. That was nothing.
Charles, however, ventured a cautious question. "Master… are you unfamiliar with the modern world?"
William smiled. "I've been asleep for fifty years."
Charles's eyes lit up. "In that case, you'll need someone by your side. Why don't I have one of my children attend school with you? Just to keep you company?"
Others might fear William, even want him gone. But Charles Turner was thinking ahead—thinking what others wouldn't dare to.
Because if there was one thing they all knew, it was this:
Being close to William… came with unimaginable benefits.
Anthony snapped back to attention and quickly added, "Master, Charles is right. You might not realize how fast things change these days. A lot of stuff, you can't just learn in school. I have a granddaughter—she's eighteen…"
"No need," William cut him off coldly. "Just have someone bring me the license later. That's all. You can all leave now."
He turned and walked into the house, clearly done with the conversation.
The five old men exchanged looks, then sighed and shook their heads. Anthony raised his voice and called out, "Master, then we'll take our leave."
With that, all five of them knelt at the doorway and bowed three times, a final gesture to mark the end of their master-servant bond.
Inside, William began tidying up the house, preparing to start his new life.
By the time he stepped back outside, the courtyard had been completely cleaned—no more trash, no more dead leaves. He lay back in a chair for a while, letting the quiet settle in. That's when it hit him: he didn't have a single cent to his name.
Starting from nothing again.
He'd done it more times than he could count.
Back in the day, whenever he woke up in a new era, he'd often find a job—any job that could keep him fed and warm. As for the days of wealth and power… he'd lived through plenty of those. Looking back, they didn't mean much anymore.
He wandered the streets for hours, eyes wide as he took in the endless rows of shops and flashing signs. So many things he'd never seen before, never even heard of. Half the words on the signs he couldn't read—he could only guess at their meaning.
But that was exactly what made it fun.
He'd lived too long. The one thing he couldn't stand was a life that never changed.
"Boss, are you hiring… waitstaff?" William finally asked, once night had fallen. He'd waited until evening to start job hunting—at least he knew that much. School happened during the day. If he wanted to study and work at the same time, he'd need a night job.
So he found a bar.
The girl at the front desk gave him a once-over. "You applying? Hold on, I'll get the manager."
A moment later, a man in a suit walked over. "You legal?"
William nodded. "I'm twenty."
"Twenty? You look older than that," the manager said, eyeing him. "You're applying for server, right? Base pay's $1,800 a month, six days off. If you need time off, give us a day's notice. You get commission on alcohol sales. If you're in, bring me a copy of your driver's license."
The manager liked his vibe—clean, calm, with a kind of quiet confidence. Who knew, maybe the rich ladies in the lounge would take a liking to him.
William nodded. "I'll come in tomorrow."
Only then did he realize—he had no idea what a "copy" was, or how commissions worked. Without someone to explain it, he might as well have been an idiot.